Do not tell me that my hair gets thinner by the day—
See, instead, how the beards of my grandsons grow out!
To comfort my little son and daughter
Michizane, a high official, was forced into exile. All of his twenty-three children were detained or sent to different places except the two youngest, who were allowed to accompany their father to Kyushu.
Your sisters must all stay at home,
Your brothers are sent away.
Just we three together, my children,
Shall chat as we go along.
Each day we have our meals before us,
At night we sleep all together.
We have lamps and tapers to peer in the dark
And warm clothes for the cold.
Last year you saw how the Chancellor’s son
Fell out of favor in the capital.
Now people say he is a ragged gambler,
And call him names on the street.
You have seen the barefooted wandering musician
The townspeople call the Justice’s Miss—
Her father, too, was a great official;
They were all in their day exceedingly rich.
Once their gold was like sand in the sea;
Now they have hardly enough to eat.
When you look, my children, at other people,
You can see how gracious Heaven has been.
The spider
There is craft in this smallest insect,
With strands of web spinning out his thoughts;
In his tiny body finding rest,
